Escapism

Snape's robes attract little attention at the pub in Vauxhall, though Lupin knows that he must have received stares on the street as he passed clubs with names like Action and Crash, filled with muscled men and pretty boys whose music and dancing spill out the doors. Here at the Captain's Sanctuary, the patrons are older, quieter; men come here to drown their sorrows in alcohol as often as to seek partners for dancing or other activities. This place belongs to a generation devastated by the plague that shattered the lives of gay Muggles. Magic might have cured many of them, but of course the wizards could not interfere.

A few pairs of eyes sweep Snape up and down as he walks from the bar toward the table furthest from it, glancing from side to side, his brusque demeanor suggesting that he is looking for a specific person rather than an encounter with a stranger. When he pauses, a hand reaches out to run a finger down the long line of buttons on his sleeve. The owner of the hand grins when Snape turns, but his smile fades quickly at the glare he receives. Yanking his arm close to his body, the tall wizard narrows his eyes and continues his progress through the pub.

Lupin is sitting in the booth nearest the back of the bar, facing the wall, with a drink in his hand and two empty glasses already on the tabletop marked with initials from long before this season. He is alone, and had he not leaned forward to signal for another drink, he might not have noticed Snape making his way through the dark room. Lupin has little doubt that his onetime colleague is looking for him. Even if Severus were the type to come to a place like this -- something Lupin had never considered -- he cannot imagine that such a private man would draw attention to himself in such a manner, peering into Muggle faces, if he did not have a specific goal in mind.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks when the potions master has come near enough to hear without Lupin having to call out. Snape stiffens at the sound of the familiar voice, meets Lupin's eyes and approaches the booth, nodding stiffly, as if he knows the other patrons might be watching and wants to maintain the illusion that this is a planned date rather than a stalking. "I'm surprised to see you here," Lupin continues. "What brings you to this part of London, Severus?"

"I've brought you a drink," says Snape and sets it down on the table, the familiar stoppered flask which he pushes toward Lupin. "You hadn't forgotten about this when you fled, had you?"

Palming the bottle quickly -- it is against policy to bring in outside liquor, and the bartender may suspect that this is even more illicit -- Lupin tucks Snape's gift away in a pocket and offers an ironic half-smile. "I didn't flee; I left," he corrects. "And thank you for your concern, but there's no need for this. I have a contingency plan."

"That's precisely what I was concerned about." Snape has narrowed his lips and is regarding Lupin with a pinched, disapproving expression. "Surely you know that no Muggle locks will hold you, and a werewolf will sabotage his own enchantments to get free at the full moon?"

"Please believe me, I know everything there is to know about lycanthropy and its effects." Despite the pull of the waxing moon on his blood, Lupin feels tired, so very tired; he has had too much to drink, tonight and the night before and the night before that. "I assure you that I will not be a danger to anyone else, Muggle or wizard."

"What about to yourself?"

Shifting his glance away from the fierce dark eyes, Lupin shrugs, gesturing at his face which bears the marks of his own violence from years earlier. "I've been that before. You were always more worried about your own skin, weren't you, Severus?"

Bending his knuckles, he makes his hand into a claw and mimics slashing first his own face, then Snape's. The other wizard does not flinch, though he shakes his head slightly at this silliness, frowning when Lupin smiles. "What is it that you think you're doing?" he asks. "Running away from the magical world, hiding among Muggles? The war is over. We won. What can you be so afraid of that you'd put the lives of countless people at risk just to stay away from Potter and the others who foolishly continue to worry about your welfare?"

"Did Harry send you to find me?" sighs Lupin, which earns him a scoffing noise.

"Potter believed that if you were determined to go off on your own, then it was our responsibility to let you go. No matter what he may have accomplished, he is still very much a child in certain respects. If George Weasley hadn't noticed you by chance, coming in here the other night, none of us would have known where you were." Briefly Lupin wonders what George was doing in this part of Vauxhall, and what it must have cost him to tell his parents or whoever else he alerted to Lupin's presence. "You haven't answered my question. Why are you hiding among Muggles?"

The bone-deep weariness makes it difficult for Lupin to lift his head, take a sip of his drink and meet Severus' eyes. The other wizard will not leave until his question has been answered to his satisfaction, so they might as well get this over with. "Magic hasn't really been a source of joy in my life," he mutters. "It made me into this creature you and everyone else despise. It cost me Sirius. Your magic can't do anything that matters -- it can't cure lycanthropy, feed the starving, silence the wicked or raise the dead, can it?"

"You have seen magic do all those things," sneers Snape. "Werewolves no longer die in agony under the knife, having their hearts cut out. Magic can provide food for a thousand people when there is bread only for a handful. And I think you know that magic can raise the dead, though the consequences are so ghastly that those of us who have been fortunate enough to be educated" -- Snape puts particular emphasis on the word -- "know better than to attempt such a thing."

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm not feeling very lucky at the moment. Don't misunderstand: I'm delighted that the world is safe from Voldemort. But I no longer have a home, I have no job, I've become a burden upon everyone I care about..."

"So instead of going to the Headmaster, reminding him that you were a vital member of the Order and demanding that your position be restored, or coming to me to point out that since I am the reason you can no longer teach at Hogwarts, you require my assistance in securing another position, you ran away and left everyone who cares about you to wonder whether you'd run wild in the woods or gone to join Black."

Carefully Lupin lowers his glass, staring. It is absurd for Snape to suggest that he should have gone begging to Dumbledore, an obvious attempt at mockery, but saying that Lupin should have come to Snape himself...that is so outrageous that Lupin thinks Snape might have meant it. "I didn't realize that you kept track of people who cared about me," he says offhandedly, trying to fathom why Severus would have sought him out if not at Harry's behest or Dumbledore's. "And it really didn't occur to me to throw myself on your mercy. I didn't think you had any."

He does not know what to make of the uncharacteristic expression of concern from Snape -- his second this evening. "You should know that I, of anyone, would never offer you pity."

"No, Severus -- if there is anyone from whom I have never expected pity, it is you." Lupin manages a tired smile. "That's why I can tell you why I left, you see."

"Then please understand that pity plays no role in my motive when I ask you to return with me." Snape can be terribly intense when he issues commands. His small, dark eyes bore into Lupin with surprising fervor. "Return with me," he says again, slowly, changing the emphasis.

"Return to where? I have nothing to return to." Lupin's voice has risen, and he senses heads turning in the direction of their table. Staring at the light reflecting off the glass onto the dark tabletop, he traces a carved initial with his finger and modulates his tone. "Among Muggles, I can get a job -- I can make a living. No one here fears me; no one would believe what I am if I told them. Among wizards, I have no career and no place to live that doesn't depend upon the sympathy of others."

"Stay with me." It's the most absurd suggestion that Snape has made yet, even more than having mentioned Sirius and suicide in the same sentence. "I have inherited my parents' home. It is quite large, and I only spend time there during holidays."

"I've just told you, Severus, I don't want your pity. Whatever your reasons, I appreciate your taking the time to seek me out but you must have known that I..."

"And I've told you that I would never offer you pity." The words are spoken so forcefully that spittle flies from Snape's lips. "How blunt must I be, Lupin? My reasons are as I have stated. I wish for you to return. With me."

It's as if he said Lumos instead, for now Lupin can see Snape's face clearly and read a meaning there he cannot quite believe. "With you?" he demands, trying not to sound as shocked as he feels. "Severus, you understand that in a few days I am going to transf..." Severus' eyes dart quickly to the side, making Lupin think he wishes to evade the revelation, but then he realizes that Snape is merely trying to remind him of their surroundings. He drops his voice to a whisper. "In a few days, I am going to transform into a wolf."

"Unlike you, I have not completely taken leave of my senses," Snape hisses back at him. "You may want to forget who and what you are, but I assure you that I have not."

"And you want to have me in your house when I become the thing you most despise?"

"You have never understood anything about the things I most despise," retorts Severus, banging his fist on the table where Lupin's fingers have continued to follow the carved initials and words, many of which have undoubtedly lasted longer than those who put them there. It's an old table, old wood; men have been meeting and drinking and sharing secrets here since a time when they might have been imprisoned for doing so. They might have died for it. Watching him, Snape slowly opens his palm, laying it flat on the tabletop. "The war is over. We survived. Now I am asking you: come back with me."

Perhaps it's true; perhaps Lupin has never understood what Snape despises. But he does understand the difference between we won and we survived, and he is beginning to understand the subtle difference between come back with me and come back with me. This is completely unexpected, a wish he would never have guessed that Snape harbored. He wonders whether it surprised Severus when he discovered it as much as it surprises Lupin himself.

There is much that he may never understand, yet he can imagine what it must have cost Snape to come here and say these things to him. It is a value higher than he would have expected anyone to place on his own welfare, particularly this one. The pub has been emptying slowly; the men who are left, save for Lupin and Snape, are drinking alone, older men scarcely exchanging words with one another as they seek to numb whatever drove them to this place.

Lupin looks across the table at his companion and abruptly decides that it's enough -- even if it's foolish, even if in the end they may both be wrong about what can or cannot be won or forgiven. While he might choose to end his days like the others here, he would not wish it for Severus, and he can spare him so easily: "Yes," he mutters, and at Snape's barely perceptible sigh of relief, "All right, I'll return with you. For now."

The last two words he adds defensively, but Snape seems not to hear them. He offers Lupin the first real smile that Lupin can ever recall receiving from him, a small one, but without the gloating that usually accompanies any expression of pleasure from Snape. Reaching into the pocket with the little flask, Lupin finds and drops some Muggle money onto the table beside the overturned glasses and the ancient carved names.

"Let's go home," Snape says.